


A Box Full of Darkness

by Shadowedcries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Flash Fiction challange, Heart Break, Mentions of Murder, NYC Midnight challange, One Shot, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowedcries/pseuds/Shadowedcries
Summary: Their love had created not a painting, but inkblots: beautifully complex pictures that created worlds inside worlds. Hermione had once believed the spikes of darkness embodied the tranquility of a forest, but now all she could see in the ink was flames.





	A Box Full of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was for this challenge was: Drama/ A public Library / A scented candle  
> You also had to make the story less then a 1000 words.  
> lol, which is super hard for my writing style, buuuuut I DID IT! WOO!

 

**~*~**

Being the head librarian of the local library had its perks, and finding haven after-hours was one of them. She cherished the way her small alcove lit up with candles and all her worries fell away. Tonight was different, though.

Tonight, _nothing_ could be considered safe.

Hermione, absentmindedly, ran her fingers against the edge of the candle and drew in a deep breath to taste it's spiced honey in the air. The proximity of the candle’s flame began to turn her finger raw. She found the longer she lingered, the more her wedding band branded her skin red. He wasn’t so different from this fire- her husband. He gave her warmth and in exchange she gave him the oxygen from her lungs. He was also just as dangerous.

He burned her skin more than this little flame ever could.

“ _So_ ,” She almost flinched at the sudden intrusion of his voice: a song so bittersweet that it set her nerves aflame. “This is it.”

“This is it.” Hermione agreed softly.  She should be scared, but when she turned to look into his storm-blue eyes all she could feel was heartache.

“Did you think you could stop me?” There was no mockery behind Tom’s words. His face could only be described as crestfallen when he moved to corner her against the table’s edge.

“No.” She answered truthfully. “I know I can’t stop you, Tom.”

“Then why couldn’t you remain ignorant, Hermione?” Tom sighed his words before fingers gently reached up to trace the lines of her jaw.

Then the world around them changed in an instant.

Tom’s hands clamped down on her throat and his words darkened. “Why couldn’t you just stand by and wait for me like you were supposed to?” The sound dug its teeth deep into the skin above her thundering heart. Perhaps it was the words, or perhaps, it was the fact his grip was slick- tainted by something her mind refused to acknowledge.

Tom was a raging flame, one of darkness rather than one that emitted warmth. He was possessive in his need to consume the things around him, he ‘marked’ them like a flame with charcoal and ash. In his eyes she was something he owned. It was an act of obsession rather than love… but in his eyes these were one and the same.

A sad smile curved the edge of her lips as she stared up at him. “You know why, Tom.” It was a strained sound, but she breathed passed the burn his fingers inflicted on her airways.

“Hermione, this can still be forgiven.” Tom spoke in dark promises, a sweet lie that swept across her senses with all the allure she imagined. A lie that sounded even sweeter when he released his hold on her throat to cup her cheek lovingly. “All _this_ can just be a bad dream.”

But, it couldn’t. It could never be a dream one forgets and forgives.

Slowly Hermione’s eyes dropped to his hand, allowing herself to observe the copper liquid turning his alabaster skin red. “You _killed_ someone,” Hermione choked out the words. “No begging on my behalf can change that.”

There was pain written across the plains of his face, but most of all there was disappointment. The silence between them only lasted long enough for Tom to digest her words. She watched as he mulled them over like he was critiquing a fine wine: each sound tasted, then retested, on the palette of his tongue.

Hermione could see, in the way his icy-blues darkened, that Tom disliked the options she had left him with. He was furious that he might lose her, lose whatever connection they might’ve had. It did not matter to him if the love was real or not; it was his.

“Then don’t.” Tom leaned forward and pressed his lips against her own. He knew what made her knees weak. Tom played upon her heart like it was an instrument of his own design and, by the gods, it _hurt_. Hermione wanted to weep into his touch, she wanted to hold him and not let go.

Hermione’s fingers pressed into Tom’s chest as she physically removed herself from his hold. “Tom-” She meant to speak further but the words caught in her throat. It left behind the sensation of venom blistering her vocals and made the corners of her eyes sting with bitter tears. Blinking stubbornly, Hermione forced herself to smile up at him.

She loved him- how could she _not_? Tom was painted into her soul like an ink that stained paper. She once believed the masterpiece their love created was beautiful but now, as she stared up at him, his face warmed by the hue of flames and his features highlighted with red splatter-

 _Now_ , she realised they had created nothing more than inkblots: beautifully complex pictures that created worlds inside worlds.

Hermione lived in that ‘painting’ for many years, their marriage and their life had been so picture perfect. It was _beautiful_ and _happy_. It lead her to believe that the spikes of black ink across that tainted paged represented the tranquility of a forest.

The art looked so different now, she stared at that paper and all she could see was fire.

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness,” She quoted hastily as lights of red and blue flooded in through the windows, brightening their dark world with dread. His hand fell from her face when the sirens sang across the empty halls. but his gaze never followed. No, Tom stared down at her, his blue gaze struck with betrayal.

Sucking in a final breath, Hermione finally let the remaining words fall from her tongue and with them, her heart. “One day, you will realize that this too, was a gift.”

 


End file.
